Neuanfänge

Disclaimer (one and only): I don't own PoT or the NPoT, but I adore this story, so don't steal it.

~Enjoy


Munich, Germany - December

Pulling up the collars of both his black roll-neck sweater and his thick dark-gray overcoat to cover the lower half of his face, Tezuka Kunimitsu made a conscious effort to move as quickly and inconspicuously as possible through the arrival gates of Munich International Airport.

Twenty-four years old and he was currently the first man since Rod Laver in 1969 to win a Calendar-Year Grand Slam*; he was also the youngest. Additionally, as of this year's recent Olympics in Madrid, he was also the first man to complete a Golden Slam**. So, to say the least, while he was extremely proud of his accomplishments, the Japanese native was a piping-hot and internationally-coveted commodity to sports fans and reporters, alike.

As a result, he had chosen to stay in the United States for a few months following the conclusion of the U.S. Open, hoping that the excitement would die down a bit if he laid low and stayed out of the public eye until the holiday season seized the world's attention. It had been a smart move on his part, and since he had been able to send most of his luggage back to Germany ahead of time, he was able to bypass the baggage claim area and proceed to the departures and arrivals area with only his carry-on bag slung over his shoulder.

Scanning the dozens of people standing with signs indicating to which arriving travelers they had come to receive and transport home, the champion briefly wondered how he was supposed to find his ride without drawing attention to himself. However, just as he was about to stop and pull out his phone, he caught a glimpse of sign that read, "Old Man T" in giant letters being waved with ridiculous enthusiasm by a blonde-haired, green-eyed teenager.

Letting out a sigh, Tezuka shook his head and discretely made his way through the crowd towards the strangely energetic man. For a moment, he was almost regretted asking the kid to come and pick him up. However, when he noticed that many of the surrounding people were actively trying to ignore the excited college student, he felt oddly relieved. Much like the Japanese, Germans were rather private and serious people who were, thankfully, much less likely to stare at peculiar people than Americans.

"Alright, stop it already." Tezuka said with a sigh as he stopped briefly in front of the bubbly seventeen-year-old. "Now, let's go before someone recognizes me."

"Why, of course, der Opa***," the boy replied, lowering his sign and turning around to lead them both towards the exit. "How was your flight?"

"Long," Tezuka replied as he carefully weaved through the remainder of the crowd, following closely behind his younger escort. He should have known better than to think he'd get away with providing such a short answer, though, because the moment the pair had made it out of the building and were walking towards the carpark, the blonde looked over his shoulder and frowned.

Then, in an unexpectedly evil tactic, he raised the umbrella in his hand and opened it, before taking several large steps out from under the safety of the metal roof of the drop-off zone and standing under the pouring rain. Tezuka glared at him for being childish, but also wasn't in the mood to get drenched before having to sit in a car for the remaining half-hour trip back home.

"Oskar, I'm not playing this game with you," he said irritably, his concerns about being noticed starting to rise after he saw several people glance at him in surprise as they passed to go inside. To his chagrin, however, the teenager was being decidedly stubborn.

"Tell me why you took so long and I'll let you under."

Eyes widening slightly at the younger man's demand, Tezuka took a moment to consider his response. He would be in trouble if he said too much, but the longer he stayed out in the open, the more likely someone was going to give him away.

Glaring at the blonde once more, Tezuka resolved himself to his fate and spoke.

"I wanted to make sure it was safe to come back."

"But you didn't stay in New York, we tried to get a hold of you, but even Volk didn't know where you went." To his surprise, Tezuka could hear the growing frustration in his friend's voice and he felt a pang of remorse for having been so selfish over the past few months.

"I am sorry, Oskar. I should have told you where I was going."

Looking up in surprise, Oskar stared at the tennis player for a moment before hastily walking back over to him. Holding out the umbrella handle for Tezuka to take, since he was taller, Oskar accepted the man's travel bag in exchange. Then, once they were both situated as best as two grown men could be under a single umbrella, he nodded towards the carpark on the left and said, "I'm parked that way."

Nodding in understanding, Tezuka stepped forward and held the umbrella up as they set out towards Oskar's car.

For the first few minutes, Tezuka wondered vaguely if the green-eyed university freshman was still upset with him because he was being unusually quiet. Then again, it had been nearly eight months since he'd seen the man, perhaps he had changed a bit in that time.

Looking down at the silent man beside him, Tezuka frowned at the thought of something so severe happening, something that would cause the talkative and bubbly teenager he'd seen back in April to suddenly become so serious and silent, and him not knowing anything about it. Surely, someone who have told him if that were the case, right? Tezuka felt his frown deepen. Then again, Oskar had said that they had tried to get in contact with him, but he was deliberately gone off the grid.

Concerned, Tezuka was about to ask Oskar if something had happened, when Oskar pulled out his car keys and unlocked a very familiar blue-green Mini Coupe.

Chuckling softly, Tezuka walked Oskar over to the driver's side and held the umbrella up to shield the interior of the car's door from the rain as the boy slid inside. Then, once Oskar had closed the door, Tezuka moved around to the passenger's side and maneuvered himself inside, collapsing the umbrella and trying to shut the car door as quickly as possible to avoid getting his seat and the leather interior wet. Finally, once he was inside, he set dripping umbrella on the floor in the backseat and laughed faintly as he watched Oskar crank up the heat and rub his gloved hands together. It was still December after all. It was still cold.

Hearing the older man laugh, Oskar looked over to see the tennis star slouch in his seat and close his eyes. It was a little weird to be honest, and Oskar had half the mind to ask if the man was okay, but Tezuka spoke first.

"I can't believe you guys still have this car." He sounded strangely amused and Oskar frowned at him.

"Who are you and what have you done to Tezuka Kunimitsu?" he asked, earning a sidelong glance from the professional athlete, followed by another rare chuckle.

"I'm just tired," he said in way of explanation, before forcing himself to sit up a little bit and put his seatbelt on. Once it was secure, he leaned his head back again and sighed, "It's hard being serious all the time."

Snorting in amusement at his friend's unusual display of humor, Oskar set about putting on his own seatbelt before turning on the headlights and shifting gears. "Would you rather that I take you home, then?" he asked, noticing that the man had yet to move or open his eyes as they started their journey back to the city.

Shaking his head slightly, Tezuka yawned before answering, "No, I'm all right. Take me to Neuanfänge."

Sighing softly, Oskar said nothing as they turned out of the airport parking lot and headed for the south-bound speedway.

"I still don't understand why you didn't want me to tell anyone that you were coming back." He said after a while, knowing full well that, despite his obvious fatigue, Tezuka was determined to stay awake until they reached their destination.

"You're being awfully nosy today," the man replied, not bothering to be subtle about his current mood. He had chosen the wrong person to be snarky with, though, because a moment later, Oskar deliberately slammed on the breaks and forced both of them to lurch forward. Several cars honked behind them, but Oskar didn't seem to care. Instead, he whirled around to glare angrily at the man sitting next to him.

"Well, excuse me for being worried about you, Kunimitsu! After bringing Mila home, you disappeared for six months! Not an email or a text or even a phone call! Then, out of nowehere, you emailed me a week ago asking if I could pick you up from the airport, but to promise not to tell anyone! Do you honestly expect me not to have questions?" Breathing heavily, Oskar stared hard at man he had admired since he was kid, his head swimming with zillions of questions and even more words to shout angrily. They were all stuck in his throat, though, because, for the first time in his life, Oskar saw the man he had always viewed as strong and confident look incredibly startled and worried. Nevermind that the expression was gone a second later, he'd still seen it and it made him hold back the rest of his anger until the other man spoke.

The only problem was that he didn't.

No. He chose to stay silent, which Oskar almost felt was better in their current situation, because he wasn't really sure if he was willing to accept any sort of excuse the man might have had for leaving everyone who cared about him in the dark for the three months following his win in the United States.

And so, instead of waiting for the perpetually quiet man to provide a customary non-answer to a question he didn't want to talk about, Oskar decided to put the car back into drive and set them back on their path to Neuanfänge. Although, if Tezuka was determined to be an ass, Oskar was sorely tempted to just drive him back to his apartment instead.

"I'm sorry, Oskar."

Refraining from slamming his foot on the brakes once more, this time because they were on the speedway and it would have been a sure-fire way to get them both into a serious accident, Oskar grit his teeth and tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

"That's a pretty crappy apology, Kunimitsu," he groused, "I'd rather you just tell me the truth."

Letting out a sigh, Tezuka turned his head to look out the window at the passing cars and buildings. "Unfortunately, I can't."

Quickly growing tired of his inability to offer a straight answer, Oskar growled, "And why is that?"

Feeling the guilt grow ten-fold in his chest, Tezuka looked over at the boy and sighed again. "You'll find out soon enough."

He knew it wasn't the right answer even before Oskar told him to shove-off in a rather unpleasant slew of curses, but he really couldn't afford to tell the man much of anything about his return until they reached Neuanfänge. Perhaps, at least telling him about the chaos that ensued after the U.S. Open would help lighten the volatile tension gathering within the small car.

"After the tournament, I stayed with an old friend of mine in Los Angeles. His father used play professionally, as well, so he knew how to keep me from getting hounded by the media."

"Is he the one who told you not to come back until now?" Oskar asked, his voice still tight as he glared at the roadway ahead of them.

At least he was talking to him.

"Yes," Tezuka said, thinking back to the sympathetic expression on Nanjiroh Echizen's face when he advised him not to try traveling for at least a month or so, since he still relied on commercial airlines for his travel. Something he was planning on changing as soon as he safely made it home.

"Did he also tell you not to tell anyone where you were?"

"He suggested that I limit communication, yes," Tezuka admitted, "but, it was my own mistake not to inform you all of my plans."

Still scowling, although visibly less tense, Oskar sighed in frustration, "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to, Kunimitsu."

Frowning deeply, Tezuka nodded in agreement, "I know, but it will happen soon, I promise."

This time, as Oskar turned them off the speedway and brought them to a stop at a traffic light, he looked directly at the brunette and said firmly, "It had better be soon. Because no amount of running through the night will fix things if you mess this up."

Message received loud and clear, Tezuka nodded seriously at the boy and even then, only after giving him a hard stare for a few more seconds, did Oskar turn his attention back to the road.

Temper now somewhat abated, Oskar honestly excepted the man beside him to remain silent for the remainder of the trip. However, it seemed like Tezuka was determined to try and make amends, because he started their next conversation with a sincere and unexpected statement.

"I am glad that I came here, to Germany."

Lips parted at his friend's strangely deep comment, Oskar resisted the urge to glance at the man as he responded awkwardly, "Uh, I am happy that you came here, as well."

Then, as they came to a stop at another traffic light, the blonde turned to look at the older man curiously and asked, "But what has you thinking about that now? You aren't really the type to express such... flowery sentiments."

Rolling his eyes, Tezuka gave Oskar a mild glare for the not-so-subtle jab at his stoic personality. Looking out the window as they began moving again, he answered nonetheless, "the weather."

"'The weather.'" Oskar repeated flatly, disbelief and exasperation dripping from his voice as he took around turn towards the city center.

However, when he heard the man beside him exhale abruptly, followed by the softest of chuckles, he nearly lost it.

What. The. Actual. Hell.

They were literally talking about the weather.

There was nothing funny about the weather. Why was he amused?

Stealing a glance at the man from out of the corner of his eyes, Oskar wondering for moment if those three extra months in the United States had driven him crazy. However, before he had the chance to ask, Tezuka spoke again, his deep voice taking on a subtle hint of fondness as he gazed out at the rainy city.

"It was on a rainy day in December that I met you and your family, Oskar."

Eyes dilating slightly as he made the connection, Oskar immediately felt his irritation get shoved aggressively away by embarrassment.

"Why are you blushing?"

Cheeks flushed, the teenager ignored his amused companion in favor of gripping the steering wheel a little tighter and making the final turn onto a side street a few blocks away from Alte Pinakothek. Then, after a few more seconds of silence, he turned into a large parking lot located beside a large brick building and pulled the car to a stop in a space near the back. And only then did he turned to look at the brunette.

"I made a complete fool out of myself when we met!" he exclaimed, glaring slightly at the man sitting in the passenger seat. "I'm blushing because I'm embarrassed!"

"Aa. But that wasn't really your fault. You were only eight." Tezuka replied, calmly attempting to ease the younger man's embarrassment. However, despite his efforts, Oskar wasn't convinced. In fact, the blonde looked mildly annoyed again.

Raising an eyebrow, Tezuka watched quietly as Oskar sat and stared at him for a moment before scowling and turning the car off. Yanking the keys out of the key port, he then turned away to face the car door and grabbed the smaller, collapsible umbrella from the inside compartment of the door. With a huff, he then threw his hood over his head and left the vehicle, the door slamming shut behind him. Feeling somewhat bewildered, Tezuka continued to watch silently as his friend braved the rain for the few moments that it took him to open the umbrella and walk around the back of the car to get to the passenger's side.

Tezuka nodded appreciatively, Tezuka quickly slipped out of the car and shut the door behind him before taking the umbrella and holding it over both of them.

Looking at the black travel bag sitting on the backseat, Oskar asked, half-shouting over the sound of the rain pelting the metal surfaces of the cars around them, "Do you need your bag or can it wait until the morning?" When Tezuka shook his head, the blonde nodded before locking the car and carefully shuffling past him to get to the sidewalk and lead the way around to the front of the building.

"You know, they're going to be upset that you didn't tell him. They've been wanting to throw a party to celebrate your Golden Slam ever since September." Oskar commented softly, as they made their walk down the wet sidewalk. He knew it was a sensitive subject, but he felt the need to tell the man before they made it inside and all chaos broke loose.

"As kind as that is, I would prefer to avoid the fanfare if I can," Tezuka responded simply, discretely tugging the collar of his jacket up as they rounded the corner and merged with the foot traffic of the general public. He pointedly ignored the quiet snicker of the shorter man beside him. "I don't want to start another commotion."

Despite Tezuka's continued secrecy, Oskar laughed good-naturedly as he recalled the last time the Grand Slam champion had, albeit reluctantly and only after the incessant urging of his publicist, announced on his very rarely-used Twitter account that he was looking forward to visiting his family for the Christmas holidays. The Tokyo International Airport had been so packed with fans and reporters that his flight was diverted to Kyoto because the airline was worried about his safety. Needless to say, the man had been extremely embarrassed by the ordeal and ended up releasing a public apology to both the airline and the other passengers for the inconvenience.

"Ah, the price of fame," Oskar sighed dramatically as they came to a stop in front of their destination, a popular family-owned café and diner. Looking up at the elegant scripted decal of the café's name on the glass windows, Oskar smiled. "I'm in the mood for a good cup of coffee, what about you?"

Eyebrow arched, Tezuka looked at his friend and then at the café full of bustling people, before responding, "Surely you had some at the airport?"

Flapping his hand dismissively at the tall athlete, Oskar stepped out from under the umbrella and moved eagerly towards the glass door. Grinning cheekily, he replied, "Airport coffee sucks, what I need is a nice, quality cup of dark roast."

Tezuka sighed softly at the man's antics, before carefully collapsing the umbrella and meeting his friend by the door. "Don't complain to me tomorrow if you can't sleep tonight." He warned, before reaching out and grabbing the door handle.

Chuckling softly, Oskar bit back the urge to ask if he would even see the man tomorrow. Instead, he simply smiled and let the happy chime of the door's bell introduce the rich smell of coffee beans and pastries that washed over him in waves the moment Tezuka opened the door.

Ah. It felt good to be home.

This line to the counter, however, was much too long for his liking.

Frowning slightly, Oskar stood up on his tip toes to try and see around the people ahead of them, but he quickly surrendered when he realized it would be a long wait for them if they stayed in line. So, instead, the blonde took a quick survey of the room before turning back to Tezuka and gesturing to one of the open tables by the window.

"This line isn't going to move any time soon, so we might as well sit down."

Nodding his agreement, Tezuka followed the blonde over to a small table by the window, smiling ever-so-slightly when he noticed the large bookshelf positioned on the wall behind the table. Oskar noticed his expression and smiled as he removed his coat and hung it over the back of his chair. He said nothing of the expression, though, and instead excused himself to go to the restroom.

"Don't get too lonely without me."

Tezuka rolled his eyes at the lively man, watching him trot off towards the restrooms in the back of the café, before setting the umbrella on the floor, away from the walking area, and shrugging out of his own jacket. He was silently grateful that Oskar had picked a table that allowed him to keep his back turned to most of the customers, allowing him to feel less concerned about someone interrupting them for an autograph or a picture. Not that he particularly minded them, but he just wasn't in the mood to be the polite celebrity he was well-known for being. No. All he wanted to do was relax and enjoy the cozy eatery that had become much like his second home over the past several years.

Settling into his chair, Tezuka took a moment to casually look around the restaurant, his eyes taking in and taking note of everything that was new and what had stayed the same from the last time he was there nearly a year ago. He had to admit that he was somewhat relieved to see that, aside from a few updated booths, some new hires, and the rearrangement of the books in the long wall of bookshelves, very little had changed in his absence. It still felt like home.

And with that though, Tezuka turned his attention to the small menu sitting on the table, curious to see what new items the owner's daughter had decided to add to the menu, when he heard a familiar voice over his shoulder. Setting down the menu, Tezuka turned slightly to glance back at the young waitress who had just spoke, her smile sweet and her vibrant dichromatic eyes glowing as she repeated the couple's orders.

Seeing her looking lively and in good health made him happy, and he couldn't help but smile slightly as he watched her golden-blonde ponytail sweep across her shoulders as she turned away from her customer's to return to the front counter.

Yes, this placed hadn't changed one bit. But that's why he loved it.

"Excuse me, Miss?"


*A true "Grand Slam" in tennis occurs when a player has won all four of the Majors tournaments (Australian, Wimbolden, French, and the U.S. Open) in a single format (i.e. men's singles or women's doubles, for example) in a single calendar year. It's actually extremely difficult and only two people have ever done it in Men's Singles; American Don Bulge in 1938, and Australian Rod Laver in 1962 and 1969. Interestingly enough, there are THREE women who have won true Grand Slams in women's singles; American Maureen Connolly in 1953, Australian Margaret Court in 1970, and American Steffi Graf in 1988.

**A true "Golden Slam" is actually an extremely rare achievement. So much so that the ONLY person to have ever earned was American Steffi Graf in 1988. The reason the true Golden Slam is so incredibly difficult to obtain is because players are required to not only achieve the coveted Calendar Year Grand Slam, but also receive the Olympic Gold metal in the same format as their Grand Slam. Plus, because the Summer Olympics only comes once every four years, the timing and the athlete have to be just right. Additionally, the timing of the Summer Olympics falls right in between the end of the Wimbolden fortnight and the two short weeks leading up to the U.S. Open. Factor in the fact that the French Open ends barely two weeks before the start of Wimbolden, to achieve a Golden Slam, players would have to win four extremely difficult tournaments with very little rest in between. Ergo, a true Calendar Year Golden Slam is the achievement of a lifetime.

***"der Opa" is (according to the internet) the informal way that Germans address their grandfather. I used it here because of the running joke that Tezuka is like an old man, despite his young age, and Oskar is simply making fun of him. (You'll learn more about Oskar and Neuanfänge later if you decide to continue reading this story).

****Another note, if you haven't seen or read any of the "New Prince of Tennis" you probably don't know who Volk is, other any of the other canon German characters that I will probably mention in future chapters. A quick google search should probably give you enough information about them to understand their role in this fanfic. If not, just view Volk as Tezuka's mentor/coach.

*****Ah, one more thing that is kind of important... "Neuanfänge" (again, according to the internet and my manipulation of google translate) is German for "New Beginnings" - If I have any German or German-speaking readers, please correct me!


Ah, yes. Many of you are probably a bit confused, and probably even thinking, "Ugh, another PoT characterxOC fanfic?" Well, there isn't much I can say about that, but I certainly hope you are willing to stick around for the rest of this story. It's the first PoT fanfic that I have written in a long time and unlike the ones that I wrote and never finished in my younger years, I actually have a lot of this one already written and I'm determined to see it through to completion.

I would love any feedback if you're willing to provide it. And I hope you can enjoy this story as much as I have enjoyed writing it!

~Enjoy 3

~Smash